


I'm Half Doomed and You're Semi Sweet.

by one_day_sooner



Category: Bandom, Futureverse - Fandom
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:57:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_day_sooner/pseuds/one_day_sooner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Far into the future, but not so far you may not see it, love is illegal. </p>
<p>Only outlaws fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Gabriel and William

Gabriel Eduardo Saporta had been one of the earliest victims of the Emotional Crime Act of 2019, the little bit of legislative hocus pocus that in conjunction with the Marriage Act of 2012, stripped American citizens of their right to marry who they loved, and in fact, love at all. The Act started with the fear of losing the sanctity of marriage if gay and lesbian couples were allowed to marry, then moved on to protect marriage from mixed race couples, couples with the woman taller than the man, blondes marrying brunettes, Catholics marrying Jews, Christians choosing Muslems, blue eyes loving brown eyes. Every couple was perfectly paired, then had to petition the President himself to be married after they'd jumped through the necessary hoops. By that time, most couples were so sick of each other, they didn't even want to be married anyway. For a while, underground wedding chapels did a swift business until the very violent, very public raids on them shut down the rebellion completely.

By 2045, there were few who remembered how it Used To Be. Laws had been passed banning use of the so-called "Forbidden Words", and allowing Government Agents permission to deal with offenders by whatever means necessary. By 2065, the government fell to the Agency, relinquishing power to the army of cold hearted messengers of control. President Ryan Morgan's last act as leader was a foolish stand against the Agency, giving a moving speech about the preservation of love, not the eradication of it. He was taken into custody and tried as a criminal for the attempted corruption of society and nineteen counts of Love-Crime, including six uses of the Forbidden Word, invoking "feeling" and rebellion against the Agency. There was no jury at his trial, but Agent Ryan Ross who brought him in and convicted him with a nod.

The only ones who'd come from a time where "marriages" existed were old and senile, ridiculous enough to never be believed when they told tales of white dresses, pressed suits and family tears. No one listened to the wailing women who didn't claim their loves before the laws were passed, and the quietly mournful men who never said they loved anyone because they were waiting for the right moment. Andrew Hurley tucked his red-brown hair behind his ear and sighed, cleaning up old Mr. Saporta after a particularly violent rant about how he let William go, he couldn't have done otherwise, but he SHOULD have stood up for their love like he did. He always went off like that after the news announcer stated blandly that there was another raid on a house of Love-Crime, and this time, six teenaged young people had been caught saying the Forbidden Words and were awaiting trial in the Cook County jail.

"When I was a young man, Andrew, Bill and I would lie together, just dreaming about the future. He'd take my hand in his, kiss my fingers and say the words. He'd say them like there was no tomorrow, and for us there wasn't. There was right then, and not a moment before or after. Me and Bill... We were really in it bad. He was my heart and soul."

Andy settled into the decidedly comfortable chair next to him and looked up with clear gray eyes. "Tell me your story?" he asked, all soft voice and kind hands, going still as the old man shifted in his wheelchair and began to speak.

***********

"Shut up Gabe, oh my God you're a dipshit sometimes!"

"Well fuck you too, Beckett. Jesus, you'd think you're the first guy to ever fuck me!"

"I'm the first one that mattered, and you damn well know it."

"If I didn't love you so much I'd hate you." Gabe had spat furiously, then pulled William into a bruising kiss, whimpering his frustration into his boyfriend's mouth.

William had bit him, tugging his lip and almost crying into the kiss, his frustration not quite gone. Gabe knew wet lashes were all he'd see when he opened his eyes between fierce kisses, so he kept them shut, knowing he'd have his William happy again soon, once he apologized the only way Bill ever accepted. Through kisses and touches, soft lips and longing sounds, the burn in his body slow slow sweet, but always starting at his heart and spreading to every point Gabe had ever been, that was how Gabriel apologized, proved his love, showed William who they both belonged to, ring or none. Words never did as well as a soft kiss on the inside of a knee or a hand run through deep chestnut hair to cup a smooth cheek.

Those were the moments Gabe lived for, when William was his, their arms and legs and bodies one jumbled mass of lovestruck man, and words meant less than nothing, their shared breath meant more than anything.

***********

Gabriel looked at Andy. "I would hope you never know what it's like to lose your soul, have your heart stop while you live on, but my boy... Your heart never started." His deep brown eyes were hollow now, a life long since gone away reflected weakly in them. Andy had seen a picture once when he was new at the Home, of Mr. Saporta and his William, two long, tall young men with matching grins on their lips and happy sparkles in their eyes. Their arms were around each other's slim waists and they leaned into each other like there was nothing else in the world.

"Tell me about the raid, please?"

"Surely, Andrew. Maybe this time, I'll die with my heart."

"Don't think like that. They'll still find you, Mr. S."

"If they do, I may finally be with him again."

"Please don't say that..."

***********

Gabe and Bill had been curled up, tracing freckles to birth marks to little scars and drawing patterns with their lips against soft, smooth shower fresh skin. Little beads of water bounced on William's stomach as Gabe nipped at his ribs and made him giggle, his hair leaving a wet streak across the pillow that would only make it cold later. They ignored a knock on the door in favor of a few more lazy kisses and a tan hand wrapping around a pale hip. William's gasp was partly from the wicked things Gabe was doing with his tongue and partly from the shock of seeing someone standing in their bedroom doorway.

"By all means, carry on." The hard faced man in the door sneered.

The woman at his side scoffed and held up a badge. "Agent Wilson and myself were alerted to Love-Crime offenses in this apartment. Mister Saporta and Mister Beckett. You're both under arrest for violating the Emotional Crime Act by declaring freely that you "love" each other. First offense was passable, but since the written warnings have gone unheeded, this is the action we must take. Get dressed, and make yourself look pretty. It's the last time you'll see each other this way."

She and her partner each pulled out a pair of black handcuffs and waited for the two men to get dressed, both eerily silent as the taller of them was taken into custody. _Shut up, Bill._ Gabe thought frantically, _Please baby, just keep your mouth shut. We knew it was coming, just shut up now and they'll be easier on us._ Of course, Bill never listened, no matter how hard Gabe thought at him.

"What's this all about anyway?" Bill asked casually as Agent Wilson rounded on him with the handcuffs and he sidestepped him.

"You know why we're here, Mr. Beckett. Love-Crime is very serious. We won't have you violating the sanctity of the word by throwing it around to this man."

"But I do."

"That's impossible. This is a male as you are. There is no love. Merely lust."

"I, William Eugene Beckett Jr., love him. I love him, a man, that man." He pointed at Gabe and smiled brightly at him before he turned back to the Agents with a mocking patience in his voice as he walked around the bedroom with Gabe watching in horror. "He's my life, my love, my heart. I-"

William was cut off by the sound of a gunshot from behind him and a spluttering noise as it pierced his heart. All he could do was look up at Gabe, his lips parting in a final defiance as he breathed out his last breath, "I'll love you, always Gabe," on it.

***********

Andrew licked his thin lips and closed his eyes tightly. Something tugged uncomfortably in his body every time he heard about how William had died on a promise and a young Saporta could only scream, thrash in his restraints, and finally succumb, telling the judge at his trial that he was no threat, he was completely incapable of love. He didn't say he would never love anyone because his only love was dead, wrapped in a sheet in a morgue under Chicago, but those who knew him knew it. He was evaluated and was set free to watch his life slowly slip by until he could meet Bill in the afterlife and apologize for taking so long to find him again. Andy thought of his best friend at home, a tall, brown eyed handsome man that smiled easily and embodied the meaning of love without ever saying the word. His chest tightened a little more and he looked over at Gabriel whose eyes had closed and a small smile graced his lips. Andy barely had time to realize what he'd said before Gabe's heart monitor flat lined. He'd said "See you soon, cielo," and was gone.


	2. Peter and Alejandro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Far into the future, but not so far you may not see it, love is illegal.
> 
> Only outlaws fall in love.

Dale and Peter were the last surviving couple that married for love, their son, Pete, the last born of true happiness. Some say that was Pete's big downfall, never being told that love was not for everyone and always knowing his parents were married, not Joined or United. Together for life. He didn't think it odd that he came from a house, not a Group Home, that his mother tucked him in and made him cookies, and his father gave him hugs and support at soccer games. He felt what the government tried so hard to repress, and that was the warm safety of being cared for unconditionally. When his parents died, first Peter of old age and heart disease, then Dale days later of what Pete said in whispers was a broken heart, Pete grew quiet, dropping his band, his sports, everything in favor of silent reflection with a ratty, taped up notebook and pen that bled as much ink on his fingers as on the page. Pete was crushed, wishing he'd had just a little more time to understand what they meant when they whispered their codes, squeezing Pete's hand three times and writing words with fingertips into his palm because saying it could break them apart.

Pete mourned the loss of his parents for months, and when he finally emerged from his parents home, it was in a bright blue sweater and with a dazzling smile under his oversized sunglasses. The government was leary to say the least. Pete was the only child that had gone through school and remained able to feel. He cried when his old Bulldog died. He smiled freely. He moved through life hiding from people when he wanted to, and now that he was everywhere, now that he was leaving a trail everywhere he went, it caught the attention of the Agency. A tiny part of Pete wanted that.

***********

Pete held open the door to the warehouse in Chicago's long ignored business district. "Welcome back, Alex. Who are your friends?"

The tall man laughed and pointed to each of the four in turn. "Alex, Alex, Alex and Nate. I found them huddled together in the alley by the McCoy estate. They almost shit themselves when I showed up thinking I was from the Agency." His laugh was bright and clear, and Pete joined in a little lower, shaking his head with a smile.

"We weren't that scared." Nate puffed up and frowned, staring at the shorter man for a second before a realization hit him. "You're the one... You're the one that helps people when they're accused of the crimes. You'll show us how to pretend."

Pete smiled widely and nodded, holding out his arms. "Welcome to the Clan, kids. Give us a few minutes and Tom will be out to show you where you can chill. No one really knows where he goes off to once he's back from his missions, but he always smells new kids in the air and takes it upon himself to show them around. He's good people. Used to be an Academy trainee, but came to his senses."

The three young Alexes ("Call me Singer!" "Uh, Marshall." "You can call me Johnson. Everyone else does."), not one of them a minute over eighteen nodded and looked around before they moved to where Pete was and let themselves be wrapped in his warm, strong hug. Nate looked distrustful at best, but when he saw that the man who'd brought him in hugged Pete as well and wandered off to begin making dinner, he had to smile. "Hey, wait up!" he called, shuffling off after the man and eventually catching him in the hallway. "Hey, thanks for saving us, Suarez. I don't know how long they'd have been able to last out there."

"Trust me Nate. I wasn't doing it just for them."

***********

If he was going to be honest, Alex Suarez wasn't sure how he became one of the Agency's most wanted men. He had been a Sustainance student, making something to keep others alive and healthy, maybe a little happy seemed to be his natural calling. He learned all the foods to stay away from because they made people behave irrationally, and all the ways to make standard issue protein packs actually taste good. He was at the top of his class, but always modest about his creative cooking, saying it was because he'd had a good batch of Re-hydrated Apple Slices, not that he was any good. Alex's modesty was what drew Pete to him, the smaller boy always enjoying the way they got along easily.

Pete remembered coming up to Alex outside the Institute for Sustainance, the smaller man leaning against the wall of the building and smirking at the other's cheery black and white checkerboard pants. Alex frowned at him. "Can I help you, brother? You look a tad lost. New Sustainer's orientation is over there," he pointed at a long, low blinding white building, "and the admissions office is closed til Monday at half eight."

"Alex Suarez, right?"

"Uh, yeah, that's me. Who are you?"

"I'm Pete Wentz. I've heard nothing but positive remarks on you, Mr. Suarez."

"Thanks, and uh, call me Alex. Mr. Suarez is too formal for me." He smiled broadly and shook Pete's outstretched hand. "So what is it that I can do for you?"

"Alex, I have a group home of sorts, and I need the best of the best in the Sustainer's field. I've heard from the instructors here, The Butcher in particular, that you have natural skill in rehydration and preparation. How would you like to learn to work with fresh food, Alex?"

Alex's eyes had a glint in them at the mention of fresh food, and Pete knew he had the other man. In an effort to eliminate the so-called "feel-good" qualities of some foods, the government processed out the chemicals that caused such feelings. The result was often a bland brick of semi-textured protien, carbohydrates or fiber that was nearly impossible to work with. Still there were schools dedicated to making those tasteless blocks palateable, and Alex attended the finest one in Chicago.

"Fresh... Do you have spices? I've heard amazing things about Pepper, and..." he trailed off and looked sheepish. "Forgive me. That was entirely out of line."

"No, no problem at all, Alex. We have some spices, nothing on the Offensive materials list, but more than here." Pete nodded. "After all, we're a home, not a criminal group. What do you say, Alex? Feel like furthuring your education with the Clandestine House?"

Alex held out his hand again and nodded. "Sign me up, Pete." he said cheerfully as Pete shook his hand.

When Alex would think of it later, that moment was how he ended up on the Agency's Most Wanted List.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Main title from Fall Out Boy's "Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes"
> 
> The Alexes were the Cab's Alexes.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Fall Out Boy's "Disloyal Order of the Water Buffaloes".


End file.
